by J. S. Scott
His mouth crashed down on mine. There was nothing tentative about his first kiss. He devoured my mouth like he needed to stake his claim.
The kiss was hot, wet, and completely carnal. I parted my lips and let him in, just as hungry for him as he was for me. Maybe more.
I’d wanted this from the moment we’d met, and that desire had sizzled and built every single time I’d talked to him since then. Finally, I could let it all go, and it was a release to just tangle my tongue with his, and at least explore a small part of this big, bold, beautiful man.
There were people wandering around the deck area, but there was nothing except Mason for me at that moment.
I didn’t give a damn who saw us.
He commanded my complete attention, and he got it.
I speared my hands into his coarse hair, reveling at the heady sensation of finally getting to know what he tasted like.
His masculine scent surrounded me, and I fell into the embrace like nothing else existed except staying close to him.
He was so big that he made me feel petite, adored, and protected.
I moaned in protest as his lips left mine to explore the sensitive skin of my neck. “Jesus, Laura. It’s all I can do to not fuck you right here. Right now,” he rasped against my skin, and then grasped my ass to pull me flush with his muscular body.
I closed my eyes as I felt the proof of his desire, his hard cock straining against the material of the denim he was wearing, pressing into the juncture of my thighs. “Mason,” I whispered into his ear as I rubbed against him, wanting so much more.
He abruptly stepped back. I was tempted to follow him and keep my body clinging to his, but I didn’t.
His breathing was harsh as he raked a hand through his dark hair in frustration. “You’re going to fucking kill me someday,” he said, his voice grim.
But his eyes…they sizzled with a molten heat that negated the negative comment.
He wanted me just as much as I wanted him, and the naked truth was right there on his face. It was also right beneath those jeans. I’d felt it. I’d rubbed against it. Now I wanted to free him and feel that enormous cock inside me.
I took a shaky breath. “I’ve never had a public sex fetish,” I said, wanting to lighten the mood.
I turned around and gripped the railing, my heart still hammering out of control.
Mason wrapped his arms around my waist, but his hold was lighter this time. “You can make me forget that there’s anyone around except you,” he whispered huskily into my ear.
My heart skipped a beat. “I don’t think either one of us is ready for this to go any further.”
Liar. I’m such a liar. I’m almost ready to beg for it.
“Speak for yourself,” he grunted. “I’ve been ready for a long time.”
He sounded so disappointed that I leaned back against him, and I laughed as we watched the lights of Seattle creeping closer until the ferry ride ended.
Laura
Laura Hastings Blog Entry, Today, 9 a.m.
Some of you have asked me how I could possibly be insecure, so I’d like to answer that question here today.
I know that I’ve had a successful modeling career, but believe me, it’s fairly easy to feel like the ugly, enormous woman in the room. The modeling world is full of gorgeous women. I’m just a passably pretty face in a crowd of beautiful females who are a whole lot thinner and smaller than I am, which is what is acceptable in the modeling industry. As you all know, I want that to change, but it won’t happen overnight.
The thing is, modeling isn’t the real world, and I have to remember that. I’m quickly approaching thirty-five, and I’ve been lucky enough to have a long career for a model. But I’m about ready to retire completely, and I still have a lot of life in front of me.
I guess what I’m saying is that if you are making modeling your career, remember that it’s a short-lived endeavor. Use it as a springboard to launch you into a long, successful career doing something else once you retire. But don’t take it too seriously, and don’t sacrifice any of yourself to be a perfect model because it isn’t going to be your career for all that long.
I’m healthy. I’m happy. I love my career, and I love creating fashions that suit women of every shape and size.
But yes, I still have insecurities. I think most women do. The secret is to not let those feelings of being “less than” rule your entire life.
There’s so much more to a person than just a body or a face. I think body diversity is something that should be celebrated and not looked down upon in my industry. And I think models need to start looking more realistic and truer to what our world of women actually looks like.
Every one of us is a unique individual, and that’s something to be happy about. How boring would the world be if we were all size-two robots who looked exactly the same?
Smile at yourself in the mirror at least once today. You’re beautiful, whether you know it or not.
Xoxoxo ~ Laura
“I honestly don’t know why you have any insecurities,” Mason commented as he looked up from his laptop.
After dragging Mason around for four days to play tourist, I was giving him a day of rest at the pool he had at his house—a pool he always had ready, but had never used.
We’d both been swimming, and were now basking in the sun in loungers that were side-by-side.
“Let me guess. You’re reading my blog post?” I’d actually been about to doze off, so I hadn’t even seen him pick up his computer.
“Of course. I always do.”
I couldn’t say my relationship with Mason was relaxed, but I loved spending time with him.
He’d complained every single day about attending what he considered tourist attractions, but most of it was teasing. Honestly, I was fairly sure he’d enjoyed the Space Needle, Pike Place Market, and most of the museums and parks I’d hauled him to during the last four days. He’d even let me pull him onto the Seattle Great Wheel because I’d never ridden the gigantic Ferris wheel before.
I made sure we were incredibly busy during the day, and I usually went back to my condo before dinner.
After that incredibly intimate embrace on the Bainbridge Ferry, I’d had a hard time actually relaxing with him. All I could think of was how badly I wanted him to do a whole lot more than just kiss me.
Today was the first day I’d actually allowed myself to wind down by not cramming our day full of activities, and it was proving incredibly difficult since we were lounging half naked by his pool.
Not that he wasn’t dressed pretty conservatively in a pair of board shorts, but I had all I could do not to reach out and touch the smooth, damp skin on his muscular, wide chest, or trace every ripped muscle of his abdomen.
He looked impossibly handsome with his hair in disarray, and still wet from his swim.
I sighed quietly, and tried not to remember every time he’d held my hand or given me a scorching hot kiss over the last several days. I failed miserably. He’d kept things light, like he was afraid of scaring me away. But I wasn’t the least bit afraid of Mason, except for the fact that he’d be going back to work on Monday, and our stolen time together would be over.
Pulling myself out of my lustful trance, I finally looked away from him and said, “I have had a lot of women ask me how I can have insecurities, and still be a model who appears to be confident in my own skin. I wanted to explain that looking confident and internalizing it are two different things.”
“Your post sounded more like a warning to women who want to go into the modeling field,” he observed.
“It was,” I confirmed. “It really is a short career, and it’s not worth destroying your health over. I got caught up in trying to fit into the mold, whether it was good for me or not.”
“When do you think you’re going to retire completely?” he asked curiously.
“I’ve been slowly taking less and less work for several years now. My lingerie shoot might be my last gig. I’ve had a
long career. Some models are done by the time they’re thirty, or even earlier.”
“Are you sad to see that part of your life end?” he asked.
“No. Not really. It would be nice to have a piece of cake and not feel so guilty that I regret eating it,” I joked. “I’m really excited about moving on so I can completely focus on my designing. I love to travel, but it would be nice to do it just because I want to go somewhere. I think I’ll always be involved in fashion in some way or another, and I’ll use every bit of influence and voice I have to try to change the industry, so women aren’t killing themselves to be unhealthily thin.”
“You’ve already made some changes to it,” Mason observed.
“Not enough,” I told him flatly. “Yes, there’s a place for bigger models now where there wasn’t before, but mostly only for companies who are known for their plus sizes. It’s going to take time for an industry to change when it’s done things the same way for decades.”
“If anybody can do that, you can,” Mason said with reassuring certainty.
“Thanks,” I said sincerely.
“When do you leave for your lingerie shoot?”
“I have to be in San Diego a week from Monday.”
“I’ll have my jet ready for you.”
It took me a moment to figure out what he was talking about. “Mason, I’m not taking your jet. This is a longtime client, and they cover my expenses. I already have a flight booked.”
“Cancel it. It’s safer for you to take my jet. My driver can drop you off directly to the aircraft, and I’ll have someone pick you up in San Diego. Where are you staying?”
I knew that Mason liked to be in control, but I balked at him planning out my schedule. “None of your business,” I said coolly. “And I am not changing my plans. I’ve been running my own life for almost two decades. I’ve traveled all over the world, and I’m still alive.”
“You weren’t dating a guy who has made a hell of a lot of enemies during his climb to the top of the heap,” he answered in a clipped tone. “We’re seeing each other now. You need some kind of security.”
I turned my head to look at him, and I realized he was totally serious. The harsh look on his face confirmed it.
“I’ve never needed security,” I argued. “And not a single person has even recognized me while I’ve been with you. And are we dating? Really? I thought this was just a week-long experiment. Some kind of trial period.”
To be honest, I was confused about what Mason and I were to each other. I was the one who had challenged him to spend some time with me and find out if he could enjoy some experiences outside of work.
Obviously, he could.
Regardless of his complaints, he had seemed to enjoy himself this week.
I had no idea if he would have asked me out again if I hadn’t thrown out my idea to show him how to see Seattle like a normal person.
He sat up and tossed his towel against the back of his lounger. “It was always more than a goddamn experiment to me,” he answered, his voice icily cold. “But I guess I should have realized that it was just a game for you since you run away from me like your ass is on fire every single night. I should have understood that you really didn’t want to take this any further. I wasn’t trying to be controlling, Laura. I was concerned about your safety. I guess I presumed too damn much.” He stood up. “I need to take a shower. Since it’s getting late, I assume you’ll show yourself out.”
He didn’t wait for me to answer. Mason turned away and walked into the house, but not before I saw a tiny glint of disappointment in his eyes.
His expression had been formidable, but I’d come to know him well enough to recognize that he only resorted to bland indifference when he thought he needed to go on the defensive.
I was still gaping at the sliding door he’d gone through, unable to believe that he’d just…left.
He’d given me no chance to respond or explain.
I continued to gape at the sliding glass door that he’d used to escape inside the house as I thought about what little he’d said.
He’s concerned about my safety.
Okay. But he could have found a way better method to explain that to me instead of demanding that I do as he said without any reason why I should.
He’s always seen our time together as more than an experiment.
But really, wasn’t that exactly what dating really was? A trial to see if two people are good together.
I run away from him like my ass is on fire.
I finally closed my mouth and swallowed hard. Mason had me on that one. I did run away from him as soon as our excursions were over.
Our chemistry was just too damn intense.
And that kind of crazy attraction, the type that’s deeply carnal and elemental, was so new to me that I didn’t know how in the hell to handle it.
I wanted Mason so desperately that I’d had moments when my whole body had started to tremble with longing so intense that it took my breath away.
I’d had to run.
It was either that or tell him how I felt and take a chance.
Problem was, I didn’t know if Mason wanted one night, or something more.
Does it matter?
Does anybody know if a relationship is going to last?
I wasn’t a damn prude. I was young, I had sexual needs, and until right now, right this moment, I’d tried to assuage them myself since no guy I’d ever dated had ever brought my body to orgasm. Not even close.
I’d had zero O’s with a partner.
Mason could do it.
And that was probably exactly what I was afraid of.
If I let myself get too close to Mason, he could break me. That scared the hell out of me.
On the other hand, if I didn’t take a chance, I’d never know what could have happened.
Generally, I didn’t sleep with a guy after just a few dates. But my situation with Mason was different. It was like we’d had all those Sunday phone calls, and hookups at various family functions as an entire year of foreplay.
He wasn’t just some random guy I’d met at a work function.
At some point over the last year, he’d become…important to me. Necessary enough that I’d kept the truth about my decision to have a child from him. Not because it was none of his business what I did. But because I hadn’t wanted to lose my connection with him.
So what if it’s just one night? At least I’d have that experience. I’d know what it was like to be with a guy who was attracted to me, who apparently gave a damn about me.
And I wanted that. Desperately.
I can’t run away this time. I’m not leaving here because I’m afraid that Mason could be the guy who could break my heart.
Dammit. I wasn’t the kind of woman who backed down and gave up.
I rose from my lounger and headed for the house. After I locked the slider behind me, I headed for the stairs, knowing I was going to need all of the nerve I could conjure up because I was determined to seduce Mason Lawson.
Laura
I could hear that the shower was still running before I entered the master bedroom.
I grabbed my bag from the bed that had the clothing I’d taken off when I had changed earlier in the day.
Good. I can get my clothes on for this discussion.
I was fairly comfortable in the modest one-piece swimsuit I was wearing, but I’d feel way better confronting Mason if I could get back into my sundress.
We should talk clothed to avoid distractions, but after that, the clothes are coming back off.
Granted, I’d never actually seduced a man before, but I planned on giving it my best shot.
I was sick of wanting Mason, but not allowing myself to really touch him because I was afraid of rejection. It was beyond time for me to take a chance, and I didn’t plan on letting what could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be with a man who really wanted me just pass me by.
I quickly divested myself of the swimming attire,
and snatched up my panties.
What I really needed was a shower. I had to get the chemicals from his pool out of my hair and off my skin.
Later. I can shower later. I have to talk to Mason first.
Just as I decided to forgo looking for another shower in the house, the sound of running water abruptly stopped.
I was so nervous that I simply froze, and hoped he’d stay in the bathroom for a minute.
Unfortunately, he exited about five seconds later with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.
Oh. Shit.
I was riveted, and I couldn’t have moved a muscle, even if the house was burning down or something.
Mason’s short hair was tussled and wet, like he’d already used the towel to run it over his hair. My eyes moved lower, fascinated by the droplets of water clinging to the naked skin of his massive chest.
The towel was slung low on his hips, so I couldn’t ignore the small trail of hair that led seductively down to the top of the towel. My body ached with longing to snatch that towel away and see exactly what was hiding beneath it.
I wanted to touch him. Really touch him. And it was a struggle to not act on my instincts.
“What in the hell are you doing here? I thought you left,” he said harshly.
“I couldn’t. Not like that,” I said in a husky whisper. God, even my voice was betraying how badly I wanted him. “We need to talk.”
Our eyes met. Mine were probably beseeching, but his were still frigidly cold.
“You expect me to be able to have a conversation while you’re standing there naked?” he asked hoarsely.
Shit! I’d been so entranced that I’d forgotten I was standing here with my panties in my hand. “I-I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I came up to get dressed, and then I thought maybe I needed a shower because of the chlorine, but then I decided to skip it and get dressed so we could talk.” I was rattling on, but I couldn’t help it.
There was so much tension in the room that it was nearly palpable.
He was staring at me, steadfastly meeting my gaze, but he didn’t speak, so I continued. “I wasn’t running away, Mason. I swear. The way you make me feel sometimes…scares me. I don’t want to make this more than it is because I’m afraid that once this interlude is over, it will hurt not to see you anymore. I don’t want to care too much.”